yeah. what. it's a monday.

Disjointed day=disjointed post.

If I code another mother-freakin' article, heads. will. roll. Specifically, my head. I've moved on to tabulation, which is more a pain in the arse than anything else, but this is where the goodies are. I'm basically translating the stacks o' articles into nice single page excel spreadsheets. So lovely. Taking my N, divvying it up through public appearances, candidate statements, news analysis, editorials, advertisements, and letters, and then plugging stuff in. It's so hot, really. Though once I get all this crud done, I get to move on to WRITING! and I have theories that I'm working with. Today for the first time in a looooong time my thesis feels kind of manageable. I'm going to crank this week, and then it's time to start churning out the chapters. chapter one is looking like it will be 15-20 pages, or about 1/4 of my final page count. Just 60 more to go!

I have been fighting absolutely awful headaches just about every other day for the past couple days, and it's just no good. Friday night I was so full of pills that if someone had shaken me, I would have rattled. No joke. Today was no better. I popped some sinus medication and ended up feeling wiped out all the way through history of jazz. all I wanted to do was curl up in bed, which was less than possible.

However, I was in fact productive today, going to Sibley to listen to a record and have a tasty caffeinated beverage at java's. I blew off dance, however, to write my history of jazz paper, which is now done! (crosses it off to-do list...whee!)
My article for the women's game program for basketball got re-printed on the Athletics website because the AD really liked it. I find this amusing.

**sounds of frat boys going through stacks makes me go grrrrrrrrrrrrr**

But today was a monday par excellence. I mean it. I woke up this morning, stumbled through my routine mumbling all the while (why am I up? it's so early? grrrr!), and clicked on my e-mail to find a message from my mom with the subject line of "Grampie".

Yeah. can't be good. And it wasn't. It's looking like we're coming down to the last couple weeks, which is good and bad. He's not in pain, which is being managed pretty well, but my mom thinks he has stopped eating--which is usually pretty telltale. So if you saw me today and I looked a little forlorn, well, that's why. I had a teeny-tiny little three-minute crying jag into Brad's shoulder, then I pulled myself together. And I went about my day.

In other, happier news, I had a wonderful time at the Masquerade Ball. It only took me 4 tries, but I finally went, with a date who I am date-ing, who can dance, and who wore a tux. Lots of my friends were there and much silliness ensued. I got to wear my wonderful red dress, and The Brad cleans up quite well. It's hard for a guy to look bad in a tux, though. He just looked...particularly nice. Yeah. The band was alright, nothing to write home about, but they interacted well with the crowd and they sucked a lot less than last year. I also had a lot of fun just dancing. While I love my lindy hop, it's #1 hard to do in a long dress and heels and #2 really annoying to do on a crowded floor with tons of people who don't know what they're doing out there.

I also got good reviews for my feature for the men's basketball program, which I was happy about since I worked really really hard on it.

Admissions sucked less than usual this morning. Though the bad times are a' comin'.

I was sad to find out that Brad can't make it to my play (VAGINA MONOLOGUES! yay) on Friday, which just had all of these horrible, horrible echoes of two years ago to me that I just wanted to shake. Though then I was doing VM as a personal escape and distraction (failed miserably), and now I'm doing it because it's plain fun. And with this it's not as if it's a pattern that I've allowed myself to think of as alright--it's a one-time thing, and while I was upset at first I can understand.

Plus, he bought a "Vaginas Are For Lovers" tee-shirt, and he will wear it on Wednesday because he's that cool. I mean, let's look at things on balance. He wore a tux on Saturday, he purchased a "Vaginas Are For Lovers" tee shirt WITHOUT PROMPTING ("Can I get one?" in a non sarcastic manner. I mean, really.), and he let me cry into his shoulder this morning, kept me company while I was sad this evening, and has just generally been a good person.

I love this man.